


In Silence

by babywarg (morphaileffect)



Series: Ironstrange Bingo [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dimension Travel, M/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 16:47:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17964320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphaileffect/pseuds/babywarg
Summary: All secrets were safe in The Silence. No information escaped to other worlds, no information told to one was ever transferred to another, and no information shared with a living thing ever corrupted it.And in that dimension, Stephen had a favorite place: the top of a very tall mountain, where a small blue flower stood.On his "sanity breaks," Stephen would sit in front of this small flower and talk to it.Sometimes, if it felt like it, the flower talked back.





	In Silence

**Author's Note:**

> For the Ironstrange bingo square “Recovery.” Title is from the [Luna Sea song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rBsviA3ugZM). [[English translation of the lyrics](https://www.jpopasia.com/lyrics/10753/luna_sea/in-silence/)]

There was never a rule against going on "sanity breaks." And sometimes, when Stephen went on one, he slipped into a dimension known in the books simply as "The Silence."

True to the name, upon entering that dimension, a deafening silence would envelop a visitor immediately.

That silence would be a supernatural one, not bound by natural law. It was not merely the absence of sound. A person completely bereft of hearing would still feel it, like an oppressive weight bearing down on their astral form.

The silence would lock an ordinary human inside their brain, the chaos of their thoughts filling in the empty spaces - and almost instantly drive them mad that way.

But Stephen Strange was no ordinary human. He could cast protective shells over his ears. After those shells of light materialized and disappeared, the silence would be, in a word, translated. Every form of life in that dimension had the capacity to speak, and their words would come to him like the softest of whispers, his talented brain assigning all the proper words.

All secrets were safe in The Silence. No information escaped to other worlds, no information told to one was ever transferred to another, and no information shared with a living thing ever corrupted it.

And in that dimension, Stephen had a favorite place: the top of a very tall mountain, where a small blue flower stood.

That flower lived apart from other plants in eternal bloom - delicate and at the same time immortal.

On his "sanity breaks," Stephen would sit in front of this small flower and talk to it.

Sometimes, if it felt like it, the flower talked back.

"I think I'm in love," Stephen told this flower.

Even flowers blooming alone in a quiet world know about love. So today, the flower answered <<Then why are you so sad?>>

"I think I'm afraid."

<<Of what?>>

"Of being loved back."

He told this flower - whose name came to him as a _feeling_ rather than a word, a feeling of safety and not being judged - about a man he knew, a man from his world. A man who matched his intelligence, his wit, and his occasional need to express affection through mockery.

A man once fated to save the world. A flawed man, who often stood as a bittersweet mirror for Stephen's own shortcomings. A man who was starting to show signs of returning Stephen's feelings.

It was funny, he said to the flower: he'd always thought that he was too weird for the world in which he was born...that love was something he might find in other worlds (if he was lucky).

He was loved, he knew he was, but being _in love_ was something that was difficult to talk about

\- much like the immeasurable time he spent making a bargain with Dormammu. The many possible futures he saw on Titan. The time he sacrificed the Time Stone and half the universe to save one single human. Every single time he had to take a life.

All this, he told the flower in The Silence. Not anyone else.

Wong cared for him, he knew, but like a big brother would. Wong was his mentor, his guardian and his friend: a person who held him in high regard, and at the same time, put a crushing amount of expectation on his shoulders.

Stephen was the new Master of the New York Sanctum, and a Master had to be strong. Wong would do everything in his power to make sure of this. Wong’s reasons for staying with him were tied to a purpose, a goal. A Master showing weakness was - something he might not be able to tolerate long-term.

Christine...was someone he had already burdened with too much. He could hardly think of her without feeling ashamed of himself. She never regarded him with contempt, and was always warm toward him, but sometimes pain would enter her voice or her eyes, and it would remind him of how there was no taking back what he had done to her.

She would always, always deserve more than he could give.

And Tony...

Tony flustered him. In the past, comebacks were quick and easy. The banter was refreshing, and Stephen came to look forward to them.

It didn't occur to him that the casual fondness would grow into something uncontrollable.

Or that it would ever be reciprocated.

<<Are you afraid love will make you selfish again?>>

Stephen frowned, and asked the flower:

"What else is love for?"

The flower answered:

<<Often, it's for growth. Selfishness is a minor inconvenience if you and the object of your affections are both, in essence, selfless people. Maybe he needs you. And you need him.>>

"Need" was another tricky subject, to Stephen. Tony never seemed like he needed anything. And Stephen certainly worked hard on the illusion that he was the same way.

They were both givers. Givers don't _need._

<<Maybe what you're afraid of,>> the flower said, <<is not being loved back, but being hurt.>>

Perhaps the flower had been listening to him for too long; it already knew him too well.

"I see what we have possibly lasting to his natural end," he confessed. "And that comes...much, much sooner than mine."

<<Then you will lose him. You will be hurt. That's no excuse to be afraid. I thought pain was an old friend?>>

Yep. _Definitely_ knew him too well. Stephen smiled, almost ruefully.

<<Love may last only a short while, but its effects are never temporary. The changes it brings about are lifelong. And if you are destined to have a very, very long life - longer than his - shouldn't you embrace every chance to change it?>>

Seizing every chance to be in love...just to keep a very long life from being boring?

Stephen hadn't thought about that.

"It might keep me from my duties," he brought up. "It might keep him from _his_ duties."

<<Then you'll both know what to do. You'll know then that it must be ended. But you've said that you see this lasting to his natural end. Maybe what you have between you is much larger than your duties.>>

Stephen smirked, because he just noticed something -

"You've always listened to me without giving your opinion...but you sound awfully sure about this."

He thought he could hear the flower chuckle. Not the first time he'd heard that vaguely comforting music in his head. But this time the sound had more conviction.

<<Flowers know the most when it comes to love. How precious and important it is. What can I say? You came to the right life form to talk to about this.>>

Stephen laughed. His chuckle echoed strongly in the quiet world, made nearby things tremble and complain.

"My best therapist," he said affectionately. "And I can't tell anyone about you."

<<I can't tell anyone about you, either. That only seems fair.>>

"But the problem is, if things go south, I can't tell anyone it's your fault."

<< _My_ fault? No flower in any universe will tell you not to take and give love where you find the chance to do so. You may as well blame all flowers.>>

Stephen smiled. He had never touched the flower, ever, out of respect, and he was not about to start.

He simply got up on one knee, and bowed deeply in front of it.

"I owe you any success or failure that may arise from the endeavor."

The flower said nothing. It had already said everything.

"One day, if all goes well...I may even take him here to meet you."

A slight wind blew, made it seem like the flower nodded.

Stephen took his leave. He had plans to make, plus a giant breath to draw in, before he changed his very long life - and someone else's much shorter one - for good.

He’d come to The Silence feeling devastated. Like everything was falling apart.

And, as always, he left with his head clear, his heart at peace.

All secrets were safe there.


End file.
